Splits
by Lolsome-o-sis girl
Summary: Story inspired by my camping trip and a crazy dream I had there :) The Bennet High crew are off on a camping trip and crazy things start to happen to Denise. You'll have to read to find out what MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Disclaimer, I own nothing. I'm just too lazy to think up my own characters :) Each chapter name is the song that inspired the chapter
1. Mr Know it all

_**Splits**_

_**Wingin' It/Alice in Wonderland**_

_**Denise/Carl (Also some Carl/Jane)**_

_**Rated T**_

_**Chapter One: Mr Know it all**_

School let out at noon today for all the upperclassmen. I've been passing the last hour by working on my latest art project for class. A jar of assorted leaves sits amongst the art tools cluttering my counter. The sweet smell of goldenrod breezes around the room, from the small pot of flowers resting on top of my shelves, next to my tattered Jane Austin paperbacks. You can't get things like goldenrod up in Heaven - the place always seems to smell like a concoction between sugar and disinfectant. Disgusting, if you think about it. I couldn't stand it anymore, and so I picked some goldenrod from down on Earth and placed it in my small room - well, it's more like a flat, really. It means that I've started to spend a lot more time locked away up here than I ever did beforehand.

Twisting the lid off the jam jar, I dip out twenty of the small, emerald colored leaves using long tweezers, careful not to crush them. With tiny pins, I secure them onto the landscape mosaic. Art is really the only subject I enjoy at school, the one subject where magic won't solve it for you. It forces you to be creative, to see the world a different way - to see the world YOUR way.

Leaning back in my plastic chair, I survey the night-time forest scene. Any changes I make have to be done now. Glancing at the digital clock by my bed, I see that I have less than two hours before I have to beam myself back to Bennet High, ready for the week-long camping trip. Of course, watching my face get rubbed in and having my heart shattered that tiny bit more is not my idea of a week worth spent, but Dr Cassabi insists that it's "therapy". Sometimes, however, I catch him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. I think he's worried that one day I'll just break down at a random moment. Maybe, by facing it head on, he'll think that I'll beat the odds of that happening (I've been close to it before).

Maybe. Or maybe not.

Sighing, I cover my art with a protective cloth, grab a lunch of nachos, before beaming myself down to Earth, to kill time before I have to head back to school. I decide on the skateboard park, because I need to do something to keep my mind off it all.

I've always felt at home in the underground skate park, hidden in the shadows. It must come from the years I've spent being trapped inside a raccoon puppet. Three centuries of being in the darkness does affect your state of mind. I was lucky, according to Dr Cassabi. Some AITs go insane from being encased for so long. Now, I'm starting to worry whether the only reason I was "lucky" was because I was already insane.

I started boarding six months ago. I needed a sport I could do whilst wearing my ear buds, but I needn't have worried. Everything from eighties music to alternative pop to screamo blares from the surround-sound speakers; I don't even have to wear headphones. It's the best place to go for distractions. The only drawback is that Jane Casey's family owns the place.

Jane Casey and I used to be friends. Close friends, actually. So much so, that, when she found out about AITs and angels, she kept the secret. The..."problems"...between us started about six months ago, and since then, she hasn't spoken a kind word to me. In fact, she called me a few days ago.

"Hey, Denise," She said, in that mocking, sugary-sweet way she does nowadays.

"Hello, Jane."

"Thought you'd be interested in knowing what Dad wants to rename the skate park if we get any more popular." Bragging, as usual. "Skater's World is so...dull. Not enough spunk to it."

"Yeah? Well, why would I be interested?" I attempted civility (emphasis on "attempted").

"Well..." Jane broke off into sniggers, before continuing. "Dad wants to rename it Wonderland." She erupted into cackling giggles. "I knew you'd love it. Considering all the crazy crap that you believe." Since our issues had come to light, Jane had been going around Bennet High, telling everyone that I thought Wonderland and Lewis Carroll's fictional tale was real, and that I'd claimed to her that I myself had fallen down a rabbit hole and been in Wonderland. Needless to say, I've been getting cracks about it ever since, however much I deny the rumours.

I must have been quiet for a long time during that phone call, because Jane's laughter suddenly died away.

"Actually," she said, voice half muffled. "I'm thinking that Wonderland is way over used. I prefer Underland. You know, like Tim Burton's version. Sounds a lot more mysterious. What do you think, Denise?"

I recall that glimpse of regret now, as I carve on the middle of the bowl, under the glowing Skater's World sign. According to Porter, they decided not to change the name after all. Still, it's nice to be reminded that Jane still has a human side to her, that she may be a bitch nowadays, but she's still retained her compassion. I haven't had any jokes made about fluffy white angel wings and halos, so I can only assume that Jane's still keeping that secret. However, I don't think that this has anything to do with me. It's more to do with the fact that, if she blabs it out, there's no way she'll be able to hide the fact that it was her from Carl. She doesn't want to lose him, and I don't blame her. I've been down that road - in fact, I'm still going down it - and it isn't pleasant.

Balancing my back foot on the tail of my board, I prepare to attempt an ollie. My last attempt earned me a bruised tailbone, giving me a fear of the move, but I don't want to give up until I've mastered it. I gave up with Carl, and now Jane's got him. It's a hard line I walk - happy that Carl's found someone who he loves and who loves him back, yet filled with the bitter tang of jealousy and self pity that I can't be the one who he cares for.

Embracing the twisted wave of emotion flowing through me when I think of Carl and Jane together, I launch. I fly through the air for a few seconds, before my front foot slips, sending me down towards the cement. The impact knocks the air from my lungs, ripping the scream from my throat. I skid to a stop in the basin, my board rolling along behind me like a small child. Choking on my shaky breaths, I try to sit up. Every nerve in my left leg is on fire and a whimper escapes my lips. My safety pad's ripped loose, leaving a tear in my leggings. Against the place where my leg made contact, there is a dark smear glares out. Blood... I gasp when I see the bloody mess my knee has become.

Luckily, within three seconds of my spectacular fall, three first aiders roll onto the scene, in fluorescent green vests, making them look like fireflies in the bright neon lighting. As soon as they reach me, they form a barrier around me, hiding my gore-splattered injury from the other skaters. No need to put anyone off their dinner, after all. One of them mops up the blood spilling with disinfectant, whilst another bandages me up. And the third? Well, the third lectures me.

"How could you have been so stupid, Denise? Anyone with half a brain would know how dangerous that move is!"

"Oh, shut up, Porter!" I snap. "What are you even doing here?"

"Figured I'd try something new."

"Ha ha, yeah, right. Pull the other one. Seriously, why? Did Cassabi send you out here to spy on me or something?"

"No..." Porter tails off. "Not really...I just - Oh." He stops, as a fourth employee rolls over to us. I recognise the clumsy movements, and it suddenly dawns on me why Porter is here. I hold back a groan.

Of all the employees working here, it had to be Carl Montclaire, didn't it?

"I should've bailed," I mumble, not meeting his gaze.

"You kidding?" His familiar voice is comforting and takes my mind off the pain in my knee. "No one could have seen that coming." He kneels beside me, forcing me to look at him. "And, glad to see you're speaking to me again, Denise."

"Don't get used to it." Rolling my eyes, I fumble with the strap on my helmet. "Help me get this off, Porter? Do something useful?"

"I'll do it." Carl snaps the buckle free before Porter can move. His clumsy fingers curve under my chin without him realising and I can feel my cheeks heating up. Porter clicks his tongue in disapproval, but Carl doesn't seem to notice, thankfully. A strand of his brown hair falls into his warm eyes and he flicks it out of the way. Jane used to nag him constantly to get it cut, but he refuses to, which makes me like it even more than I already did. Jane's been his girlfriend for only two months. She has no claim over what he does, which frustrates her, and I am mean enough to feel satisfaction at that.

Carl's palm cups my elbow. "Can you stand?"

"Of course," I snap stiffly, wanting him to let go of me. However, as soon as I put weight on my left leg, a pain shoots through it, so powerful that I topple over. Porter supports me from behind, whilst Carl strips off his pads and socks. Before I know it, he swings me up into his arms and carries me towards the door.

"Carl!" I hiss. "I can walk!"

"Yeah. Sure."

"I want to walk!" I hang onto his neck, in case his arms give out and he drops me - I'm surprised he hasn't already. I can feel the smirk of the other skaters as they pass us. They'll never forgive me being carried away, bridal-style.

Carl kicks the door open with his foot, miraculously not dropping me as he does so. I blink, trying to adjust to the bright light of the afternoon sunlight outside, a warm breeze wafting over us. Carl puts me down on the baking sidewalk, and then drops down beside me, taking his helmet off. His soft brown eyes study the bandage that is stained scarlet from my knee.

"I told you to replace your gear, Denise."

"Since when?"

"I told Jane to pass it on."

Well, no wonder I didn't get that message. But, I don't say anything. Carl is already in concerned ex mode. There's no reasoning with him when he's like this.

"Been having dinner with Cassabi and Porter again?" The words come out sharper than I intended.

Carl sighs. "Denise..."

"In fact," I continue, bitter. "I should be grateful that I'm even allowed to come down from Upstairs by myself. Seeing as it's so dangerous for my little, unstable self."

"This has nothing to do with Cassabi, or Porter," Carl says, letting out a long puff of breath. "I'm just sayin'. Boarding is dangerous."

"Like London, right?"

"Great." He tosses his helmet aside. "So, you're not over that, then."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Carl. What's there to get over? Instead of standing up for me, you took their side. Now, I can't go to London and finish my studies, because I can't be trusted to be sensible enough without angel supervision. Why should that bother me?"

"At least you'll graduate."

"You can graduate there too, Carl."

"Not with the rest of Bennet High, you can't."

I had been ecstatic when I found out about a study abroad program that allowed seniors to spend their final year of high school in London, whilst getting college credits at the same time. Not only was it a great opportunity, it gave me a chance to escape Jane and Carl's relationship, to clear my head. Since Carl had shown an interest in it, Dr Cassabi had invited him and Porter to dinner, to talk about the program. And, then, of course, they decided that it wasn't the right time for me to be flying out to a foreign country without supervision.

Yep. _They_ decided.

I still haven't figured out why Carl is so against me going, but no matter. The sign up deadline was last Friday, so I can't change anything.

"Traitor," I mumble to Carl now.

"I'm just trying to be a buddy here, Denise. You're not ready, and you'd have no one to look out for you -"

"I'd have you. If you signed up as well."

"I can't be with you every second."

"I don't need someone with me every second!" I almost yell. "I'm not a kid!"

Carl barely blinks at my raised voice. "Never said you were a kid, Denise. But, you don't always..."

"Don't always WHAT?" I demand.

"Don't always make the best decisions," he says finally. "Like that." He points to my knee.

"What? Angels aren't allowed to make a few mistakes?"

"Not ones that get you hurt."

"Yeah, like being stuck here doesn't hurt." My voice is quiet, but his jaw clenches, so I know that he heard me.

He sighs suddenly. "Right. I get it, Denise. Everything is my fault. Even you eating concrete in there a minute ago."

"Well, yeah. If you were teaching the skateboard classes, I would have aced an ollie by now."

"So, Pete...he's not doing it for ya?"

I aim a punch at him. "No, he is not "doing it" for me."

"I'm sure he'd like to. Although, Porter's already told him that we'll kick his -"

"As if you'd have a chance, Carl." Pete is nineteen and a prison sentence waiting to happen, due to being a master womanizer and ID faker.

"Hey," Carl says. "Aren't we meant to be meeting at the school in half an hour?"

I check my cell. "Yep. Half an hour."

"Let me clock out." Carl stands. "I'll get your board and then we'll drive up to school."

That's the last thing I need - driving around town with my ex (as if Jane doesn't give me enough crap already) - but curiosity overtakes me.

"Since when do you drive?"

"Since now," he says in a voice that means there's no room for discussion. He disappears through the door, returning a few seconds later with my board and helmet. I just stare at him. If he can't back me up about London, how can I be around him constantly for a week? I've been avoiding him since the London business.

"Come on." He takes my arm and helps me hobble across the parking lot, stopping by a neon orange pickup. He helps me inside, but I'm not having any of it. I slam the door myself, trying to ignore the sharp jab of pain in my knee, as Carl gets into the driver's side.

"Okay," he says. "Here we go."

_**A.N: Hope it's okay. I thought of this while I was on holiday (hence the camping trip thing). Also, sorry if you are a fan of Jane. If you are a fan of Jane, I would stop here. Just saying. I personally have nothing against her, but, for this story, she had to be a bitch. Sorry.**_


	2. Skinny Love

_**2. Skinny Love**_

Afternoon sun glares down on the roof of the truck, and I stare out of the window. Every time Carl tries to start up a conversation, I mumble monosyllabically, before turning up the volume of the radio station, until the bass of the current song reverberates its way through the truck. Carl seems to get the message, as he presses his lips together, driving in silent contemplation. The song changes again, and I sigh, taking a sneaky look at Carl's profile. His eyes are focused on the highway, strands of hair flopping over one side of his face. My fingers move to brush them out of his eyes, but I change my mind half way, and my fingers hover in mid air, which catches his attention. He sends a questioning glance my way.

"Car freshener looks good," I say finally, tapping it, following its sway.

"Yeah. Well, Jane took the picture, so it was bound to turn out good."

"What is it?"

"A white rabbit. Jane said she saw it when she went on holiday to England a few months ago, and so I had it made into a freshener."

"Lovely," I say, trying to sound like I mean it. "Maybe it should be you on the end of all these Wonderland cracks."

"Don't take it to heart, Denise," Carl says, but I'm barely listening. I dig out my cell phone, and open up a search for "White rabbit" on Google Images. After twenty- some pages of tattoo designs, I find a small sketch of a snowy white rabbit, similar to the one in Jane's photograph. The screen turns black when I first click the images, but then, fancy white text scrolls across the screen.

_**'Alice Liddell - the girl behind Wonderland?'**_

"Fierce game of solitaire?"

"Nope. Research."

The truck bounces over a bump, and the cell slips from my hand. I pick it up, but I've lost the website, and any signal.

"Crap!"

"Nope. Pothole. Close enough though." Carl slides a lazy gaze my way.

I glare at him. "Ha ha. Keep your eyes on the road, dumbass, in case there's any more." I drop my phone into my pocket and pull a small cosmetic bag out of thin air.

We cruise into the school parking lot, Carl swerving into the first space he sees. I raise my eyebrow.

"I'm no expert...but are trucks meant to make that noise when you cut out the engine?"

"It's fine."

"Huh! Don't be so sure. Don't blame me when your car falls apart."

"Fine. Why don't you come over when we come back from this god awful camping trip? We can hang out in garage, like -" he half coughs "- like we used to."

"I'd like that."

"Great." His eyes light up. "And, hey, since you're speaking to me again, how about we hang out tonight? First night of camp?"

"Right," I snort. "Like Jane wouldn't have a fit if you didn't accompany her to Brittany's Prom thing."

"Ugh. I forgot about that!" He groans, head slumping against the steering wheel. "Jane said she was gonna get me a tux and everything!"

"Wow. Someone's pulling out all the stops."

"Tell me about it. Hey, Brittany said that she asked you to come along and you said no. Why?"

"I have this flaw." I give a shrug. "It's called dignity. You've clearly seemed to have overcome it."

Carl snorts. "Let me guess. You have another flaw called self preservation?"

"Yep." I finish lining my eyes, before making the bag disappear. Carl claps once, leaning back in his seat.

"Well done, Denise. You've managed to destroy any resemblance to the girl I used to date. Congratulations."

I freeze. "I'm - I'm not -"

"I know." His voice is quiet. "I know, Denise. It's me, remember?"

I shake my head. "But, Carl, I'm really not -"

"You dress like that to keep people away from you. It's like a warning sign for danger, to get people to back off and leave you alone."

Carl has always been able to read me like a book, but, now, it's like he's crawled inside my head and has lodged himself there, the way he has with my heart.

"It's not easy being in the shadows of someone else," he says suddenly. I'm not sure what he means, but his face is deadly serious, so I don't even ask. Instead, I glance down at the blood-covered bandage. The sight is almost enough to make me physically ill.

"Here." Carl leans over the back of the seat and finds a red bandana, which he ties around my knee, hiding the bandage from view.

"Thanks."

"You know, you really should come along. Tonight, I mean. Show up like this - I guarantee you'll still have your dignity left."

"Yeah. Right."

"I'm serious!"

"Sure you are, Carl. Pull the other one." I start to get out, but he stops me.

"So, what, just because we're not dating anymore...I can't give you compliments?"

"Yes. Glad to know you've got it right."

"But, that's not fair." He takes hold of one of my hands, squeezing it.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you?" I snap, but all the force has gone out of my voice. "Life isn't fair."

"You have no idea." He studies me as he's talking. Maybe it's just from my unresolved emotions, but I feel my cheeks going red.

"Uh..." Is all that comes out of my mouth. He just smiles. Making it worse.

"Carl!"

I jump at the sound of Jane Casey's voice. Carl boomerangs as far away from me as the car will allow, rolling down the window to speak to Jane.

"Hey," he says, smiling at her.

"I've been waiting for you." Jane is smiling. Until she sees me trying to get out of the passenger seat. "What's she doing here?"

"She had an accident at the skate park. I was dropping her off, that's all."

"That better be all," Jane mutters, sending me a deathly glare when Carl isn't looking. I manage to get out of my seat, and hobble round the other side of the truck, clutching onto it for support. Carl gets there before I can escape, however, and helps me walk over to where the rest of our Bennet High friends are seated.

"Hey! Den!" Brittany calls out to me, and Carl leads me over to her bench, and I sit myself down. "Ohmyholyshiz, what happened to you?"

"You know, the usual. Skateboarding is kinda trial and error nowadays."

"Carl!" Jane again. Like he's her little pet.

"I'll see you later, Carl," I say, as he walks back the way we came. Brittany barely waits until he's out of ear shot, before she starts talking again.

"Seriously, Denise, you look like someone just shot your pet hamster. Did you and Carl settle things by World War III or something?"

"I was tempted. He's been on a bit of a roll lately."

"You're telling me!" She rolls her eyes. "Honestly, what is wrong with the guy?"

"Don't know," I reply, as Principle Malone starts directing us onto our coaches. Luckily, I am put on a different one to Jane - I can see, from the looks she keeps giving me, that's she's ready to murder me the next time she can get close enough to.

I slide into my seat next to Brittany, placing my ear buds in my ears. I notice, out of the corner of my eye, Porter and Carl getting on the coach at the last minute, but I close my eyes and pretend that they're not there. Carl outta sight, Carl outta mind, as the saying goes.

"I can't wait," I hear Brittany say to Serge in front of us. "I mean, my party's gonna be amazing...every camper is gonna be there..." I drift in and out of the conversation, trying to listen to the song. And then regret it when I hear the lyrics.

_"Come on skinny love, what happened here?_

_Suckle on the hope in light brassieres,_

_My my my, my my my, my-my my-my..._

_Sullen load is full, so slow on the split._

_And I told you to be patient,_

_And I told you to be fine,_

_And I told you to be balanced,_

_And I told you to be kind,_

_And now all your love is wasted,_

_Then who the hell was I?_

_'Cause now I'm breaking at the britches,_

_And at the end of all your lies."_

"Denise...are you crying?"

"No!" I protest, dragging a hand across my eyes. "I just...have an eyelash stuck..."

"Here." Brittany passes me a tissue.

"Thanks," I mumble, embarrassed, drying my eyes.

Therapy, Dr Cassabi? This is more like torture.


End file.
